


dreaming about you and me

by I_have_more_ships_than_friends



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, Dreams, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Smut, Pining, Therapy, but what else would you expect from our favorite resident dumbass bisexual, i made myself sad writing this but i promise it has a very happy ending, if there was any more pining you could build a house, in the wise words of my friend, it's like 4000 words of pining, like every 911 character is mentioned but only buck eddie and dr. copeland are really in it, lots of yearning, so many feeings, so much yearning, yes the title is from a selena song and you can fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_more_ships_than_friends/pseuds/I_have_more_ships_than_friends
Summary: What was that about? Eddie is his best friend, his straight best friend, his straight best friend who he definitely does not have feelings for. And look, sure, Buck is pretty chill about his sexuality, he’s hooked up with a couple of guys before, and he’s not blind, he knows Eddie is attractive. Like, really attractive.But that doesn’t mean anything, all it means is that he hasn’t had sex in several months and happens to have a very attractive best friend who he spends a lot of time with. That’s all it is. Just a fluke, an accidental dream born out of loneliness and proximity to hot people. Well. Hot person.aka, Buck can't stop dreaming about kissing Eddie and then freaks out about it for 4000 words
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 12
Kudos: 255





	dreaming about you and me

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be short and then I accidentally wrote 4000 words of pining. Whoops. Also full disclosure it's been several years since I've been to therapy so I apologize if the therapy session isn't super accurate but I did my best.

Buck’s not sure exactly where he is, his surroundings a blur of light and sensation. Normally he would feel panicked or out of control, but for some reason there’s an overwhelming sense of peace and _rightness_ that he can’t quite understand. His entire body tingles with a pleasant warmth, spreading right down to his toes and making him feel weightless, almost like he could just drift away, peaceful and content with a smile on his face, floating through the clouds without a care in the world.

The sound of laughter breaks through his thoughts, and when he turns to see where the sound came from, a familiar face comes into focus. Eddie’s face, smiling that wide, genuine smile normally reserved only for Christopher, his eyes sparkling with joy. And so beautiful. Buck has memorized every part of his face, every curve, every angle, every scar and smile line that there is, and he lovingly traces each one with his gaze. He reaches out with his hand, gently caressing Eddie’s face, the warmth of his skin making Buck’s heart skip a beat in his chest.

He looks up from where his eyes have been trained on his thumb tracing its way along Eddie’s jawline to find Eddie’s eyes locked on his, his pupils wide and his gaze filled with so much heat that Buck suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. His heart is pounding in his chest, his hands shaking, and Eddie is leaning forward, so slowly, letting his eyes drift closed, and he’s so close now that Buck could count each individual eyelash, except then his eyes are closing too, and Eddie is finally, _finally_ , closing that last distance and pressing their lips together, so heartbreakingly soft it’s almost painful, and then-

Buck gasps awake, sitting bolt upright in his bed, momentarily disoriented until he realizes that he is in fact in his bed, alone. He quickly glances over the railing, ensuring Albert is still asleep on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief when he can just make out his roommate’s sleeping form bundled up in blankets on the cushions. He takes a couple deep breaths, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. He raises his fingertips to his lips, still tingling with a phantom kiss, and a sense of guilt and panic suddenly washes over him as he recalls his dream.

 _What_ was _that_ about? Eddie is his best friend, his _straight_ best friend, his straight best friend who he _definitely does not have feelings for_. And look, sure, Buck is pretty chill about his sexuality, he’s hooked up with a couple guys before, and he’s not blind, he _knows_ Eddie is attractive. Like, _really_ attractive.

But that doesn’t mean anything, all it means is that he hasn’t had sex in several months and happens to have a very attractive best friend who he spends a lot of time with. That’s all it is. Just a fluke, an accidental dream born out of loneliness and proximity to hot people. Well. Hot _person_. He sighs contentedly, falling back down into his pillows and pulling his blanket up to his chest, soon drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

****

It might be easier to write it off as a fluke if it didn’t _keep happening_. Every night so far this week, he’s woken up in the middle of the night from a dream about Eddie. Eddie smiling at him, Eddie laughing, Eddie working out, Eddie kissing him. Always Eddie kissing him. Soft kisses that were barely brushes of their lips, gentle kisses on the cheek or forehead, light kisses dusted all over his face that felt more like butterfly wings than lips. Not to mention many... _other_ kisses. Passionate kisses that lit a fire low in his stomach, biting kisses that were more teeth than lips with Eddie’s hands on his hips pushing him hard against the wall, slow kisses with Eddie’s weight on top of him pressing him into the mattress (after that particular dream, he had woken up harder than he had ever been in his _life_ , but couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it, instead laying still in bed and forcing himself to think of the grossest calls they’d ever been on until he had calmed down).

It’s getting increasingly more and more difficult to write these dreams off as simply a fluke, but he has to figure out something to do or he’s going to go crazy. Just yesterday, he’d been in the gym and saw Eddie lifting weights exactly like he had in his dream, and Buck had choked on his own spit and nearly dropped a dumbbell on his foot. The day before that while they were on a call, Eddie had put his hand on Buck’s face to check if his head was bleeding from a piece of debris that had grazed him, and Buck had jumped so hard that he'd fallen off of the back of the firetruck (Chimney and Hen had gotten a good laugh out of that one).

He felt _weird_ around Eddie now, weird in a way that he never had before, because they were never weird. They had never been weird. But now, he couldn’t even _look_ at Eddie. Couldn’t look at him across the table without feeling flustered as he remembered how his lips had felt against his in his dream, and wondering if they tasted as sweet in real life. Couldn’t look at him rolling up a firehose without thinking about how those hands had felt caressing his face, or sliding up under his shirt, or pressing him up against a wall, and wondering how his calloused fingers would feel on every inch of his body.

Basically, it was interfering with his work. So he tried his best to distance himself from Eddie, keeping the touches to only when absolutely necessary, deliberately taking chores that he knew Eddie wouldn’t be doing, making up some half-baked excuse whenever Eddie asked him to come over and hang out with Christopher. It was only until the dreams stopped, because clearly his mind was confused and needed a break from Eddie, and he did his best to ignore the hurt looks on Eddie’s face whenever Buck turned him down yet again. Just until the dreams stopped, and then everything could go back to normal.

****

Two weeks of this, and Buck feels more miserable than he has since the lawsuit, and that’s saying a lot. Not to mention, not only have the dreams not stopped, they’ve actually gotten worse. More vivid, more passionate, and more often than not now Buck is waking up with a _problem_. Even if literally all Eddie does in the dream is smile at him or hold his hand. He feels like he’s 15 again, and 15 was not a great time for him.

He needs to talk to someone about this. The dreams in general, not just the feeling like he’s going through puberty for a second time. The question is, who?

Eddie is normally his go-to, but he’s obviously out of the question. Maddie might be able to help, but she’d probably tell Chimney, and Chimney would immediately tell everyone, so that rules her out. The thought of talking to Bobby about this makes him want to flee the country, and while he knows Hen would probably be the most understanding, she’d also almost certainly laugh at him, and he’s not sure he could handle that right now. For a split second, he considers TK, but he’s not sure the casual texts they’ve been exchanging in the weeks since the wildfire put them at the level of friendship where he would be comfortable sharing his weird domestic-fantasy-slash-sex dreams with him.

Wait, he has a therapist. He instantly feels stupid for not thinking of Dr. Copeland first, since the entire reason he had gotten a therapist was so that he could work through the feelings he was having trouble understanding. He shoots her a quick text asking for an emergency session, and then starts thinking about how he’s going to tell his therapist that he’s been having dreams about making out with his best friend. The buzz of his phone interrupts his train of thought, and he glances down to see a text from Dr. Copeland saying that she has an available slot in 15 minutes. He sends back confirmation, taking a deep breath as he tries to organize his thoughts.

15 minutes later, he’s sitting on the couch, staring at his iPad, his fingers nervously drumming on his knee. When the FaceTime notification pops up, he clicks it instantly, and Dr. Copeland’s face fills the screen.

“Hello, Evan. How are you?” He takes a deep breath, trying to get into therapy mode and out of the panic he’s been stuck in for the past two weeks.

“Hey, Dr. Copeland. I’m doing okay, I guess.” He grimaces at his wildly unconvincing tone.

“You haven’t called for an emergency session in a while. Did something happen?” she gently probes, and he winces thinking about what he’s about to say.

“Um, well, you know my friend Eddie?” Dr. Copeland nods in agreement. Eddie and Christopher were frequently mentioned in therapy sessions, not because they were the source of anything bad, but simply because he spent so much time with them and they were such an important part in his life. “Well, I’ve been having these...dreams about him the past few weeks,” he admits, feeling his face flush in embarrassment.

Dr. Copeland hums in acknowledgment. “What kind of dreams? Nightmares?” He shakes his head. “Erotic dreams?” He feels his face burn hotter.

“Not—not really. Well, not actual sex. I mean, a lot of the time there’s kissing, but mostly it’s just normal, everyday things. Like being at work together, or having a drink, or playing video games with Christopher.” He struggles to express or even understand why these dreams have been bothering him so much.

“So, these dreams are normally about things you and Eddie already do together, except with a romantic aspect?” He nods, feeling like he’s on the edge of...well, _something_ , but he doesn’t know what. “Do you think these dreams are an indication of feelings that you’ve perhaps been unconsciously suppressing?”

He feels his breath stutter at the words, at the possibility that he’s been trying not to consider, that these dreams aren’t just some half-baked fantasy born out of loneliness and desperation for comfort, but something much larger and life-altering. “I—um, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.”

“Well, I know we’ve discussed before about how you sometimes tend to hide your true feelings from others in a subconscious attempt to protect yourself from harm.” That had been an emotional session, one where he’d spilled everything about his abandonment issues—from Maddie leaving him when he was younger, to Abby ditching him to go travel the world, to Ali breaking up with him as soon as she realized what dating a firefighter meant, to his own fire captain slash adoptive father refusing to let him back into the one place he’d always felt at home. He’s made his peace with all of those things, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still hurt. “Do you think this could be another example of that?”

“But, I mean—he’s my best friend, of course I care about him, but—just not in that way.” Even as he says the words there’s a twinge of doubt somewhere deep in his chest.

Dr. Copeland’s brows furrow slightly, like they always do before she’s about to ask him to close his eyes and visualize something. “Close your eyes, Evan.” There we go.

He closes his eyes, the bright natural light of his apartment replaced by darkness. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever exercise she wants him to do. “I want you to try to picture what your life will look like in 5 years, and tell me what you see.”

His mind produces plenty of images, snapshots of the life he hopes to have in 5 years time, not so different from the one he has now: having lunch with Maddie every week, cooking with Bobby, joking with Chimney and Hen at the fire station, playing video games with Christopher and losing every single time. Not to mention all of the rest of his extended family: Athena, May, Harry, Karen, Denny, Nia, Michael, Albert, and the baby Buckley yet to be named. He tells Dr. Copeland all of this, and feels a smile spread across his face as he lists the names of all the people he loves in the world. Well. Almost all of the people. She instantly notices who he’s left out, merely saying “and?” and then the words seem to come spilling out of him.

Throughout all of it, in nearly every snapshot, _Eddie_. By his side, whether that’s on a call or during a Scrabble game or doing shots at some karaoke bar. He’s there. Buck can’t imagine a life without Eddie, doesn’t even want to entertain the notion, and as he thinks about the possibility of there being someone else, some other woman in Eddie’s life spending time with him, he feels a surge of jealousy and sheer _panic_ at the mere _thought_ of Eddie being with somebody. He isn’t sure how much of this he’s said aloud, but as his eyes fly open and he sees Dr. Copeland’s knowing expression, he thinks he probably said plenty.

“Evan, I can’t tell you how you feel. Only you can do that. But I can tell you that you should talk to your friend, because shutting him out will only hurt you both.”

He nods, his mind still trying to comprehend what just happened. Dr. Copeland gives him some more advice on how to visualize and work through his emotions, and he hears the words coming out of her mouth, nodding along at everything she says, but he doesn’t really process any of it. At the end of the session, Dr. Copeland does one final check in and he assures her that he’ll be fine, wishing her a good day and saying goodbye.

After hanging up, he sits staring at the opposite wall for probably a full minute, the gears in his brain spinning and spinning and producing pretty much only one logical conclusion.

He’s in love with Eddie.

Well. Shit.

****

The more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Of course he’s in love with Eddie. Probably has been for a long time. He’s not sure when it started, but as he looks back over their interactions through the years, he sees everything in a new light.

That hot feeling in his stomach the first time he’d seen Eddie, shirtless through a glass window, muscles flexing in the fluorescent lighting—that wasn’t jealousy, it was desire. That fluttery sensation in his chest when that Christmas elf had said “you two have an adorable son” wasn’t just affection for Christopher and pride at being recognized as someone important in Chris’s life—it was excitement at the thought of he and Eddie being together, being parents to Christopher together. That blind, all-encompassing panic he’d felt when he saw Eddie disappear under 30 feet of mud and could do nothing but scream his name and try to dig him out with his bare hands—that wasn’t just at the thought of losing his best friend, but at the thought of losing the man he loved.

He spends much of the day just laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how he’s going to face Eddie now. Does he tell him and risk ruining the best friendship he’s ever had, not to mention losing Chris? Or does he not tell him and hope that the feelings either go away or he’s just able to hide them forever? Neither option sounds great right now.

He’s really glad he has the day off from work today.

****

His day off from work unfortunately doesn’t do much to illuminate exactly what he should do with this newfound realization. All he knows is that he can’t tell Eddie. He can’t. It could ruin everything, destroy the best friendship he’s ever had and wreck one of the only good things he has going for him right now. What if Eddie decided he hated him and never wanted to see him again and he put in for a transfer? No. He couldn’t do that to Eddie, to his team, his _family_. He’d just have to suck it up and ignore these feelings until they hopefully went away on their own. And, he realized with a sinking feeling in his chest, he’d have to keep avoiding Eddie. He’d never been any good at hiding his feelings, and he’s sure that now how he feels about Eddie will be written all over his face any time he looks at him. So, with a heavy heart, he decides that’s the only way he can deal with this without hurting them both.

For the next several weeks, he keeps avoiding Eddie, swallowing down the words that threaten to spill out of his mouth every time he meets Eddie’s eyes, dodging all of Eddie’s attempts to talk to him until Eddie stops even trying, and somehow that hurts even worse. He feels miserable, and everyone around him sees it, though they thankfully don’t try to talk to him about it. Eddie doesn’t seem miserable, just cold, closed-off in a way he hasn’t been since after the lawsuit when he would be lucky to get a second of eye contact from his best friend. His heart feels like it’s breaking and it _hurts_ , worse than he ever imagined, but he _can’t_ tell Eddie and have him leave him, because that would kill him.

So instead he carries on, still dreaming of Eddie every night, waking up with tears streaking his face, wishing desperately for Eddie’s arms around him and feeling his heart break a little bit more every time he realizes that he’s truly, unequivocally, entirely alone.

****

On one of his days off, one he would normally spend with Eddie and Christopher playing video games or attempting to cook something semi-edible together, he’s instead lying in bed, miserable and cursing his stupid heart for making him fall in love with the one person he can’t bear to lose.

He’s startled out of his self-flagellation as he hears a key in the front door. For a moment he thinks it must be Albert, but then remembers that Albert said he was staying over at Maddie’s tonight while Chimney was working an overnight shift. The front door opens rather forcefully, slamming into the wall with a bang he hears from upstairs. He frowns, getting slightly worried. “Albert?” he calls out, assuming his roommate was probably just swinging by to get something he forgot.

“Nope.” He feels his heart plummet, instantly recognizing the voice he’s been hearing in his dreams every night for the past month and a half. He forces himself to sit up, looking over the railing to see Eddie leaning against the door, arms crossed, looking the angriest Buck has seen him since that day at the grocery store.

“Eddie, what—what are you doing here?” He tries not to stumble on his words, but gets distracted halfway through his sentence by how much the LAFD t-shirt Eddie is wearing shows off the muscles in his arms (listen, he’s only human, and those forearms should be illegal). He forces himself to tear his eyes away from Eddie’s arms, not wanting to make things worse than they already are, but he winces when he looks into Eddie’s eyes and sees the genuine _hurt_ in them.

Eddie lets out a humourless laugh as Buck gets off the bed and starts making his way down the stairs, figuring it’s better to face this head on rather than hide in his loft. “I don’t know, Buck, maybe I wanted to see if we were still friends, since, you know, you’ve been avoiding me for the past six weeks?” Buck winces at his words, leaning against the railing of the stairs to try to keep some distance between them.

“Of course we’re still friends, Eddie—”

“Well then, what the hell is your problem, man?” Eddie doesn’t yell, which almost makes it worse. It might make it easier if Eddie was yelling at him. Instead he just sounds...broken. And Buck wants to do anything he can to fix it, to make Eddie feel better, but he knows if he told him the truth it would only make things worse.

Instead, he tries to deflect. “It’s nothing, I’ve just been really stressed lately and I’m dealing with a lot—”

“Well, what is it?” Eddie says, cutting him off. “You know, I thought that was kind of the whole deal with being best friends, you’re supposed to _talk_ to each other.”

“No, I know, and I’m sorry—”

“Did I do something?” Eddie’s voice cracks just slightly, so soft that someone who hadn’t hung onto every word he said for the past three years might have missed it, but Buck heard it, and it broke his heart.

“No, you didn’t do anything, Eddie, I _swear_ —”

“Then what is it? The last time you just stopped talking to me it was because you were suing the city, but I’m pretty sure you haven’t been crushed by a ladder truck lately, so I’m guessing that’s not it.” The reminder of the lawsuit stung, just like Eddie knew it would. Buck searches desperately for something, anything, that would excuse his behavior. Anything but the truth.

“Eddie, I just need some time to—to figure things out, okay?” he manages to get out, figuring that’s the closest he can get to the truth.

“I don’t get why you can’t ‘figure things out’ and still spend time with your family.” Buck’s breath catches at Eddie referring to them as family. “I know you’ve been through a lot and you’re seeing your therapist but I want to be able to _help_ you, and I can’t do that if you won’t even fucking look at me, so will you please just tell me why you can’t just _talk_ to me—”

“Because I fucking love you!” Buck yells out, cutting Eddie off mid-sentence. The other man just stares at him, a dumbfounded expression on his face. Buck buries his face in his hands as he realizes what he just blurted out, unable to look at Eddie and see him preparing to reject him. “Because I love you,” he says again, throwing his hands in the air and turning around to hide his face. “I’m in love with you. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you, because I couldn’t look at you without wanting to kiss you and I felt like I was almost dying all over again every time you touched me and I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d leave me like everyone else does and I _can’t_ —”

He’s cut off by a hand grabbing his arm, spinning him around to see Eddie just inches away from him. Whatever words he was about to say die in his throat at the look on Eddie’s face, and he must just be imagining things, or he’s dreaming again, because Eddie wouldn’t look at him like that in real life. Except he is. Eddie takes in a deep breath as if he’s about to say something, and Buck braces for the worst.

“Buck, you’re an idiot,” he whispers softly. Wait...what? Buck opens his mouth to respond, and Eddie cuts him off by leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

Eddie’s kissing him. Eddie’s _kissing_ him. And he’s kissing back. And it’s better than anything he’d ever dreamed, because even in his dreams he couldn’t imagine how soft Eddie’s lips would feel against his, or the scratch of his stubble against his face, or how solid and real Eddie would feel under his hands.

Eddie breaks the kiss and Buck resists the urge to pinch himself just to make _sure_ this isn’t a dream. He laughs softly, and the sound is the most beautiful thing Buck has ever heard. Their eyes meet and Buck is struck by the overwhelming amount of love in Eddie’s eyes, so much that it takes his breath away.

“Buck, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” He’s never heard Eddie say anything in this voice before, and he’s so taken away by it that it takes him a moment to process the words. When he does, he’s overcome with a wave of happiness and _love_ , so much love for this beautiful, incredible man that he feels like he’s going to cry. He lets out a little helpless laugh, a sound of pure joy, and Eddie smiles so wide at the sound that he can’t help but surge forward and kiss him again.

 _God_ , and this kiss is better than every single one he’d dreamed of put together, and it’s like he feels a dam inside him break, all of these feelings he’d been keeping bottled up for so long rushing up to the surface all at once, and he deepens the kiss, trying to pour every ounce of love he feels into this one kiss.

Eddie seems to sense his desperation, and he walks them backwards, never breaking the kiss, until Buck’s back is up against the wall. He gasps into Eddie’s mouth as the hard line of his body is pressed against his own, and Eddie responds by nipping at his bottom lip with his teeth, the tiny bite of pain making him instantly dizzy and breathless with pleasure. He has to break away from the kiss to get some air into his lungs, although the sight of Eddie’s blown pupils and kiss-swollen lips make him question for a moment if he really needs air.

“So, not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?” Eddie moves back slightly to ensure that they end up actually having a conversation and not just kissing again, much to Buck’s dismay. He groans as he realizes what he’s going to have to tell Eddie and buries his face in the crook of his neck, attempting to hide his blush. Eddie lets out a little surprised laugh. “Well, now you have to tell me.”

Buck takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself but still refusing to look Eddie in the eye. “I was having these... _dreams_ about you,” he manages to get out.

“Oh, do tell,” Eddie responds in a voice so low and full of want that it sends a bolt of heat straight through Buck’s body, lighting that fire low in his stomach that he’d felt more than once waking up from one of said dreams about Eddie. He could hardly believe it was real, every second of the past ten minutes having felt like one of his incredible dreams. Buck lets out a little helpless laugh, shifting the lower half of his body away from Eddie to attempt to hide how much that voice was affecting him.

“Not _those_ kinds of dreams, you _dick_.” Eddie laughs and raises an eyebrow at him. “Well...not _just_ those kinds of dreams.” Eddie makes a little triumphant “aha” noise and Buck would punch him in the arm if he didn’t love him so goddamn much. He still gives him a light shove, not hard enough to hurt, and he’s smiling the whole time anyways so Eddie knows he doesn’t mean it. “Just dreams about— _us_ , about us and Christopher, just being together like we normally are but—more.”

He would feel embarrassed at admitting that he’d realized he was in love with his best friend because he’d had repeated dreams about playing video games with him and his kid and then making out on the couch once they’d put said kid to bed if Eddie’s expression didn’t instantly soften.

“I dream about that too,” Eddie whispers, almost like a confession, and Buck loves him so much it hurts. He doesn’t know what to do except press another soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, the heat between them having quieted into a pleasant warmth that makes Buck feel so safe and content that he wonders how he ever thought he could live without this.

“So, you love me, huh?” Buck says into the space between them, having to say the words out loud to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

Eddie responds with the most breathtakingly beautiful smile, and Buck wants to keep looking at him for the rest of his life. “Afraid so,” he says back, and Buck can’t believe he ever denied that he was in love with him.

He doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow, or the next day, or even five minutes from now, but all he knows is that whatever comes, he’ll have Eddie by his side, his best friend, his partner, the man he loves more than anything in this world. And he knows in that instant that as long as he has that, everything will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments fuel me so please give me digital validation if you enjoyed this! I've got like six other buddie fics I'm working on right now so there is plenty more pining idiots coming your way soon!


End file.
